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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24748306">Navigation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionboys/pseuds/dandelionboys'>dandelionboys</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Swiss Army Man (2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem Issues, Theyre going on a path of self discovery, and also a path on the coast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:14:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,596</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24748306</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionboys/pseuds/dandelionboys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You have no idea how nice that sounds.” Hank stared up at Manny, shoving him back to put some room between them. He felt every inch of the distance between them, like an uncomfortable static brushing the hairs of his arm into goosebumps.</p>
<p>“If it sounds nice, then why aren’t you trying for it?”</p>
<p>Hank doesn't like himself, and he knows that he makes other people uncomfortable, but things are changing and he is too. And so is, apparently, Manny. So maybe, just maybe, he could get to a place in life that's better. Healthier. A little bit greener.<br/>(Maybe he could even learn to love himself, one day.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Manny/Hank Thompson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Navigation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This has been my favorite movie of all time since it has come out, and I've never written anything for it, so I've come to fix that.<br/>Unbeta'd, but I hope you enjoy.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You have no idea how nice that sounds.” Hank stared up at Manny, shoving him back to put some room between them. He felt every inch of the distance between them, like an uncomfortable static brushing the hairs of his arm into goosebumps.</p>
<p>“So then why not?”</p>
<p>Hank sat up, glancing at the woman in the window as she turned away to talk to her child inside the kitchen. Manny was struggling to find his footing on the grass, sliding as he repeated the question.</p>
<p>“Why not what?”</p>
<p>“Just… hold on.” Manny brushed off his knees, wiping away the grit sticking to his suit, and looked down at him with a frown. “If it sounds nice, then why aren’t you trying for it?”</p>
<p>“It’s not that simple.”</p>
<p>“But it could be.” Manny tried to wave towards the house in front of them, cut short by Hank snatching his arm. “Hank, you don’t have to be alone. You aren’t alone.”</p>
<p>An awkwardness crept through Hank’s gut like a sharp wriggle mixed with shame. “I’m not – Manny, people sometimes just don’t… like me. A lot of people don’t like me because I’m me.”</p>
<p>Hank watched as a line creased across Manny’s brow, deepening as he continued to throw out words, discomfort forcing his speech to jumble and making it harder to think. He felt confused. Frustrated. “I’m disgusting, and a freak, I don’t act right or talk right, I can’t look people in the eye and I make other people uncomfortable just by existing, and I’m not good with words, and I can’t make friends, and even if I could make friends I wouldn’t know how to be comfortable doing things like joking around and hugging them and hanging out like normal people do and –“</p>
<p>“Hank.”</p>
<p>“- it’s not easy for me! The only thing I know how to do is be alone, but even that I suck at apparently because –</p>
<p>“Hank.”</p>
<p>His breath hissed through his teeth, and Hank tried to unclench his fist where it started to ache and leave white marks where his fingernails had shakily dug into the meat of his palm. He swallowed, faintly.</p>
<p>“I don’t understand you.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, well Manny, sometimes I don’t understand you either.” Hank made an aborted motion to shove himself up, but Manny stumbled in front of him, hands raised.</p>
<p>“Wait, wait, let me finish. Hank, you’ve…” There was that crease again, between his brows. “I don’t understand why you care about those people. You’re you, Hank. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but you might be one of the few.”</p>
<p>At this, Manny’s hands lowered, and he looked back at the house and back at Hank. Resolve flickered quickly over his face with a pale flush similar to anger. He grabbed at Hank’s wrist and hauled him up. He said nothing as he picked him up onto his back and walked them back into the cover of the woods. </p>
<p>It was a couple minutes before Manny spoke up again, quieter. Not in a withdrawn manner, but sharper. “Why do they matter to you? All those people you don’t know.” He set Hank down on a damp tree stump, shaded by moss that was hanging above them like a green curtain.</p>
<p>Hank fought the urge to fiddle with the bark underneath him, avoiding Manny’s eyes. Luckily Manny took the moment to sit down on the ground-cover, back up against the neighboring tree as he closed his eyes.</p>
<p>“I don’t know.”</p>
<p>“You don’t?”</p>
<p>“No, I- I guess they just do.” Here, Hank paused. “Would it make sense if I said I cared about what they think about me because they might be right, then?”</p>
<p>“I don’t get it.”</p>
<p>Right. Okay. “I don’t really know myself, I guess. It’s hard sometimes. I’m not really anything in particular. I’m not funny, or smart, or adventurous, or friendly. I’m a lot of ‘nots’. But if people look at me and are uncomfortable around me, if they wish I weren’t there at all, if they know that I’m different or a freak or weird, then that’s what I am. And I don’t want to be that, Manny.”</p>
<p>“So what do you do?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know! I mean, maybe I just stay quiet then. If I don’t talk, if they don’t notice that I’m there, then I don’t have to be… those things.”</p>
<p>“So, what, you’re going to live your life always looking for the first sign of disgust or any sign that someone doesn’t want you there? Then do nothing but hate yourself?”</p>
<p>That hurt. Hank slumped over, letting go of the moss that he had rubbed to pieces between his fingers.</p>
<p>“I don’t understand that, Hank. Mostly because you’re wrong. I think you’re funny, and smart, and adventurous, and you’re my friend. You’re wrong, and who cares about anyone else.”</p>
<p>Hank mustered up enough curiosity to look over at him, finding Manny staring intently at his face, and he sighed. “Thanks, Manny. But it doesn’t…” He trailed off.</p>
<p>“Doesn’t count?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>“Because I’m your friend?”</p>
<p>“Sort of.”</p>
<p>“That’s not a yes. Why?”</p>
<p>“Because you… care. Maybe. About me, already. And I’m the only person you know.”</p>
<p>“What if I know lots of people? If I still think you’re all those things after I know lots of people, will it count then?”</p>
<p>“….Maybe.” Probably not, but Hank kept that to himself. Anyone who cared about Hank automatically makes them biased about what kind of person he is.</p>
<p>“Alright.” Hank watched Manny shove himself up and stalk over to loom above him. “Then I’m going to know a whole bunch of people, and make lots of friends, and then I’ll come back to you and prove that you’re the best out of all of them.” Manny offered up his hand, holding it out steady in front of him.</p>
<p>Hank snorted, “You make it sound simple.” But after a second, took it and was heaved up. He let out a yelp as he overbalanced on his good leg, only to be caught by two arms circling his shoulders and gripping tight.</p>
<p>“You’ll see.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>The beach they had left behind is situated on the coast of California, a secluded piece called Agate Beach, which forms a long stretch of smooth stones and tall walls of soil and trees that point upwards to a sky often clouded over like thick grey paint. The forest is dense with warm wood and ferns, sheltering the town of Trinidad to the south.  Hank and Manny skirted around the border of it, trying to keep an eye on the more traveled portions as Manny hummed to himself, breaking off once he spotted a small bench just off the path of a green space.</p>
<p>Thankfully it was devoid of anyone else, Hank thought to himself. He still wasn’t sure how to explain Manny’s… existence without him becoming a medical marvel. (And perhaps being taken away, but he tried not to think about that too much.) Hank gratefully flopped down on the wood with a groan, Manny shuffling beside him.</p>
<p>They watched two robins peck at a nearby patch of grass.</p>
<p>“I think…” Manny cut himself off, huffing as he curled over and placed his elbows on his knees. From his peripheral view, Hank watched the side of Manny’s mouth turn down before he opened his mouth to speak. “I think I’m starting to remember my name.”</p>
<p>Hank jolted back slightly.</p>
<p>“That’s good though, right?” Manny turned, face twisted in a grimace. “So why am I sad?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, that’s good! Did anything happen? How did you remember it?”</p>
<p>Manny stared up at the clouds drifting overtop them, casting a dull shadow over the two of them on the bench. “Wasn’t anything really. Just, kind of gradual.” Manny shifted to sit back, bumping his shoulder against Hank’s. It seemed accidental, so Hank tried to refrain from moving.</p>
<p>“So what was it?”</p>
<p>“…Started with… Hmm, not there yet. But...” something flickered over Manny’s face, an expression that Hank hadn’t seen before, one he didn’t like. “Hank? Would you still be my friend if I wasn’t me?” A breeze ruffled his hair, and a bit of the sun poked through the clouds enough to light up the spot where Manny was sitting. He felt warmer, against the side of Hank’s arm, although that was probably just the sun as Manny’s face was still pale. The faintest hint of pink behind the skin that let him know he was human. “If I couldn’t make water or light a fire, or do anything cool, would you still like me?”</p>
<p>“Of course.” The answer felt natural, and came easily enough that Hank felt a bit shocked that he could exclaim that sort of thing. Maybe Manny was more important to him than he thought. That was something to go over later, though. “Why?”</p>
<p>“I was dead. You found me, and now I’m here and I don’t know how or why. What I do know is that I’m your friend and you’re mine, and I like you and I like me. But I think, I think that I used to be…” Manny’s chest deflated with a deep sigh. “Different. I don’t think I liked that version of me. Like it. I don’t want to be him. I want this me. I want to be the person I am with you, right now.” He paused, eyes catching on Hank. “But if I remember who I am – which is supposed to be a good thing – that means I can’t be this version of me. I’ll be the old version again.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Swiss army man was partially made on Agate beach, at Patrick's point state park. I can personally attest to the fact that it has great rocks, and is very grey and cloudy and lovely there.<br/>Hank struck a particular note in me when I first saw the movie in theaters, one that was felt raw and real.<br/>Thank you for reading the first chapter, and if you feel like it, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the movie and the characters and what happened between them.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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